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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27484198">Into A Man</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HardshipsUnnumbered/pseuds/HardshipsUnnumbered'>HardshipsUnnumbered</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Maleficent (Disney Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Movie: Maleficent (2014)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:35:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,249</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27484198</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HardshipsUnnumbered/pseuds/HardshipsUnnumbered</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hera was glad that Maleficent did not correct the raven, though it had been by her hand he was transformed, not the dark fae's. She did not need his fealty or gratitude, though she'd never had wings to call her own. Maleficent, however, had not lived a day without her great cloak of feathers, rolling down from her spine like great tapestries. Hera could see now how she leaned upon the oaken staff in her hands, her balance shifted by the lack of her wings' great weight. She could see it in the crow man as well, how he seemed to teeter on his bare feet like an infant.</p><p>"Diaval," The shifter finally rasped out, swaying wilder. Hera realized just a moment too late that it was not from his new body.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Diaval (Disney)/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is (hopefully) part one of my maleficent rewrite fic(s). i love diaval but can't seem to ship him with maleficent or aurora so i made him someone that i am certainly having fun tying into the writing.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She had not seen Maleficent in three days. Mornings came and went, devoid of her great, dark wings. Nights slipped by, silent and foreboding. Thunderous clouds had gathered in the sky like the chill at the base of her spine, threatening rain when the days should have been bright. On the fourth day, Hera brushed out her rose-gold curls, donned her moss-velvet traveling cloak, and departed the Moors.</p><p>She found Maleficent in a field nearly the same color as her flaxen locks, hiding amongst the grains. Her wings, once so elegant and graceful, were gone. Nothing but blackened stumps were left. </p><p>"Maleficent," Hera spoke, her voice like the whisper of the wind itself. "My sister, what has he done to you?"</p><p>They were not sisters. Hera was only half-fae, something that dared not even exist. And yet, hidden away in the Moors, she endured. She matched Maleficent now- full of nature's magic but devoid of wings. Hera had never had any.</p><p>Maleficent held a finger to her lips. The look in her emerald-gold eyes told Hera that she had already wrestled with that demon alone, and for a brief moment, the fairer head felt calamitous. She hated the curious boy who had grown into a covetous man, and she hated herself for not being by her closest friend's side when Stefan had betrayed her. And yet, Hera's attention was drawn otherwise, to a raven crying fearfully under a farmer's net. Maleficent looked at the creature with hungry eyes, as if she was happy to watch the thing bludgeoned to death. Hera felt an anxious tingle run through her spine, and she waved her hand abruptly. </p><p>"<em>Into a man.</em>"</p><p>The farmer's blow hit the raven square in the wing, but it was suddenly a shoulder. The creature, writhing under the net, let out a horrible noise somewhere between a scream and a squawk as the farmer jumped back. Stammering something about shapeshifting demons, the frightened man scurried away, his loyal dog following. Maleficent raised an eyebrow, her blazing eyes flickering to Hera, but said nothing. </p><p>The raven-man was lying on the ground, the net around him having turned into smallclothes. His shoulder was welling purple where the man had stoned him, but his arm was in much worse condition. Terrible, gaping wounds dripped blood onto the ground, marks from where the mutt had gotten him. Astounded, Hera matched Maleficent's gaze, her azure eyes wide in shock.</p><p>"It is not like you to leave a creature to die," She hissed.</p><p>"It is not like me to be devoid of wings."</p><p>Breaking their icy stares, Maleficent and Hera emerged from the golden reeds, standing over the dark-haired man. He looked up, his beady eyes glazed over with pain, coughing.</p><p>"What have you done to my beautiful self?" The corvine figure croaked, his voice barely a rasp. Hera glanced at her soul-sister, who looked <em>oh so </em>fragile without wings. </p><p>"She saved you, birdie," The lie was spoken easily through rose-petal lips. "She's in need of wings, you see."</p><p>Maleficent's eyes flashed dangerously, but she did not refute the declaration. Satisfied, Hera watched the man pull himself to his feet, grimy and battered. He had the decency to look chastised, the avian point of his nose tilted downwards in disgrace.</p><p>"F-Forgive me," It seemed the blackbird finally realized who he was standing before, muddied and stripped of his feathers. "Mistress," He addressed Maleficent, and Hera was not oblivious to the slight mirth that tugged the fae's red lips towards. "I am your servant."</p><p>Hera was glad that Maleficent did not correct the raven, though it had been by her hand he was transformed, not the dark fae's. She did not need his fealty or gratitude, though she'd never had wings to call her own. Maleficent, however, had not lived a day without her great cloak of feathers, rolling down from her spine like great tapestries. Hera could see now how she leaned upon the oaken staff in her hands, her balance shifted by the lack of her wings' great weight. She could see it in the crow man as well, how he seemed to teeter on his bare feet like an infant.</p><p>"Diaval," The shifter finally rasped out, swaying wilder. Hera realized just a moment too late that it was not from his new body.</p><p>"How unfortunate," Maleficent remarked as Diaval crumpled to the ground, his dark eyes rolling into the back of his head. Cursing, Hera waved her hand, watching his broken body shrink into that of a bird's again. Scooping the battered mass of feathers into her soft palms, she gave her sister a withering look.</p><p>"He needs care," She muttered, cradling Diaval to her chest. "Let him rest before you send him to the castle, for I know that is where you wish him to be."</p><p>Maleficent's expression darkened, thunder streaking across her eyes. "Stefan <em>stole </em>them, Hera," She uttered maliciously. "I want this pet to fly by tomorrow night."</p><p>Drawing a sharp breath, Hera fixed the horned fae with a somber gaze. "I will do my best, Maleficent," She murmured in reply. "He is not deeply injured, merely shocked."</p><p>"I don't care."</p><p>The chill in the other's voice stunned Hera, her gilded tresses falling flat over her shoulders. Once, Maleficent had been a protector of all things, eager to care for the Moors as well as the creatures outside. Now, there must have been iron in her, for she burned hotly with fearsome rage.</p><p>"Sister," Hera spoke slowly, soft as a leaf falling. "I do not blame you for your fury, but this quarrel is with man and man alone. <em>That </em>man and that man alone."</p><p>Maleficent didn't speak as they walked the stretch back to the Moors, upheaving stones and straw that littered her way. Patiently stroking Diaval's downy head, Hera followed, mending the damage behind her with nothing but the rhythm of her steps. As soon as they had crossed back into the Moors, hushed whispers met her scarcely-pointed ears, though Maleficent pretended not to notice. While she stepped over the pools and fashioned a throne from the heart of the forest, Hera cradled the bloodied mess of feathers in her palms, tendrils of gold-green magic ruffling Diaval's pinions.</p><p>"You're going to have to open up, pretty bird," She whispered, laying him in a nest that had thatched itself in a kindly instant. "There, just unfold your wings..."</p><p>When she returned to Maleficent's side, dark blood still stained her porcelain skin. Kneeling at the edge of the stone, Hera rinsed her hands in the pools, surprised at the iciness she felt.</p><p>"Mal, it's snowing." Her sweetbriar hair was already covered with delicate crystals of frost, though the snowfall had just begun. When it was clear she wouldn't get an answer, Hera frowned, straightening. For the first time since she had met the great, dark fae, she was powerless to speak to her. Recognizing it would be of no use, Hera averted her gaze, bowing swiftly.</p><p>"You needn't do that," Maleficent spoke, her lips a hard, thin line. Tilting her head, her fairer companion turned away.</p><p>"The others did."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hera woke before the sun the next morning, the Moors bathed in a deep cerulean glow. A thin layer of snow blanketed the world, and the halfling was grateful she'd brought her raven inside the hollowed tree she had called home for years, decorated with moss and little glowing spores. She'd tucked the shivering creature into a new nest, conceived from shed tufts of fur the animals had bestowed upon them in the dead of night, silent as the grave. Hera had thanked each one with a kiss to the snout before binding the tree, branches winding tenderly about the entrance. But now, in the rising twilight, the half-fae realized Diaval had gone. She knew he could not be far, but still, she worried. He had not gotten the chance to mend fully, despite her magic.</p><p>"Diaval?" The maiden unwound the makeshift door to her hut, noting the gaps where a raven could have flown through. The branches were littered with broken feathers, snapped nearly at the base. Blood dotted the snow in front of her, but Hera quickly realized it was not entirely from her pretty bird.</p><p>"Oh, must you do that?"</p><p>Diaval was perched by the carcass of a mouse, his talons unsteadily gripping a twig that was sprouting from the snow. His beak was half-buried in the rodent's fur, but he pulled back with great beady eyes. Hera held out a hand, vines dropping down from above to deposit ruby berries into her palm. Diaval ruffled his feathers before gawkily flapping to rest on her finger, his damaged wing clumsy and ungainly. Stroking his head, Hera waited until he'd finished eating to change him back to a man, his feet falling into the snow with a soft crunching noise. She'd remembered to clothe him this time, his feathers transforming into a black shirt and breeches. His talons became leathery boots, a long, dark overcoat fluttering about his ankles. Diaval smirked, dipped into a gratuitous bow, and promptly vomited. </p><p>When he was finished some time later, shaking in her nest of quilts, Hera sat beside the raven-man. Just as she tucked her legs under her skirts, she draped a mossy blanket over his shoulders, realizing for the first time the bony, avian scars that lined his collarbone. His tunic, which he had undone the drawstrings of, laid open over his white chest, revealing more markings. Questioning, she brushed a finger over the raised skin, her brazen curiosity a result of living amongst fae for so long. They, unlike humans, did not shy away from touch. </p><p>"It seems as if this body cannot handle carrion," Diaval tried to joke, though his great black eyes were bewildered by her hands. "Mistress, what are you doing?"</p><p>Hera drew back. "Maleficent may ask for such titles, but I do not. Please, I am Hera."</p><p>"I could not," Diaval began, seeming to flinch. "I am but a raven amongst the Moor's great protectors. At least allow me to call you 'my lady'."</p><p>Amused, Hera leaned back in the hollow tree, her wingless shoulderblades pressing smoothly against the moss-covered bark. "I permit it," She accepted. "Are these scars, Diaval?"</p><p>"Some, I'm sure, my lady," He replied, scratching his head. To both of their surprise, dusky quills fell from his dark hair, fluttering to the nesting below. Hera caught one between her lithe fingers, inspecting it closely. </p><p>"Maleficent has asked a great thing of you already, pretty bird," She said slowly, turning the plumage in her hands. "And for that, you must be able to fly. Let me see your arm."</p><p>Astounded, Diaval shrugged off his jacket, clumsily rolling the sleeve beneath to his shoulder. Gently, Hera lifted his elbow, clicking her tongue in disapproval. </p><p>"What, can I fly?" Diaval squawked nervously. </p><p>"Of course," Hera raised a golden brow at him. "Do not put so little faith in my talents. Still, it will scar."</p><p>True to her word, the skin was still pink and angry, already raising slightly on his pale skin. For the first time, Diaval felt ashamed, as if it was something he had to hide. Wrenching his arm away, he unrolled his sleeve, stuffing his arms back into his mangy overcoat whilst muttering a hurried, "Thank you." Hera blinked, somewhat shocked, but said nothing more on the subject.</p><p>"You are still too weak to make the journey to the humans' castle, pretty bird," She continued apologetically. "Men are not supposed to consume the rotting flesh of rodents- or any other animal, for that matter. You are still unwell."</p><p>She could see the unease in Diaval's posture, his arms awkwardly clenched at his sides. If she were to grant him his raven form, his wings would have been folded protectively over his middle, tucked around himself like a barrier. Be that as it may, Diaval was human now, his pallid skin sprinkled with a fine sheen of sweat.</p><p>"Could you just turn me back into a bird?" He muttered, adjusting his posture with the feebleness of a titmouse. Frowning softly, Hera reached out to smooth the wild locks away from his face.</p><p>"I could," She admitted. "I fear your wing would then be awful sore."</p><p>"I implore you."</p><p>With a wave of her hand, the anguished man was an anguished bird, fluttering to the depths of the nest indignantly. He cawed loudly until she scooped him into her hands, nestling into her palms with what she could have sworn was a smug little smirk on his beak. Chuckling, Hera carded her fingers through his bent feathers, straightening the ebony shafts as she had done long ago with Maleficent.</p><p>"Pretty bird," She murmured. "Return to slumber; it is early still. By the time you wake, you shall be well again, and Maleficent will call upon you."</p><p>Her whispers bounced around the hollow trunk, echoing with the slightest hint of golden magic. Content, Diaval roosted quietly in her palms, chirping drowsily. Once he was soundly asleep, she replaced him into the makeshift nest, cushioned delicately in the cream-colored fluff.</p><p>"Maleficent will not be a kind mistress," Hera warned the bird. "She might have been, once, but that time has passed. I will do my best to keep her ire from you."</p><p>She looked at the raven, small and quiet in his slumber. Now, if she could only do the same before Maleficent called on them...</p>
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